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poem and quote

năo pendure nenhuma grinalda
de encontro ŕ flama verde da hawthorn-árvore
o mais saddest do ano
sombras voadas que varrem perto
a noite é escura, e os ventos do inverno
o sol pisou para baixo de seu throne dourado
como nivelar cai
e enquanto nós andamos a grama foi agitada fraca
deixe um sustento da alegria vocę
carrinho aqui por meu lado
eu moldei o mundo
năo há nenhum escape pelo rio

 



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